Chapter Fifteen: The Autumn Pool and the First Emperor

Less than thirty miles from the Dragon-Washing Pool lay a secluded valley, veiled in mist throughout the year—beautiful, mysterious, and forbidding. This was Fallen Immortal Gorge, one of the three forbidden valleys under the jurisdiction of Heaven’s Gate Peak.

The gorge plunged into unfathomable depths, its sides ringed by steep, precipitous cliffs, as though shaped by a volcanic eruption. Three figures circled the cliffs, searching for a way down. The vertical rock faces looked as if sliced by a giant blade, offering not the slightest foothold.

“Look, there are words here!” Just as hope was fading, Lin Feng discovered a line of large characters carved into a smooth section of the cliff: “Fallen Immortal, the path of the lost; of ten who enter, nine do not return.”

“Of ten who enter, nine do not return…” Du Songsong repeated the phrase, rubbing his forehead. “We’re doomed. There’s only three of us, even counting the little goldfinch and the wolf pup, we’re not even half the way there. Now we’re all done for.”

“Nonsense!” Helian Ruxue shot him a glare. “Some bored senior must have carved that to scare fools like you.”

Du Songsong managed an embarrassed smile.

“Wait, there’s an iron chain here!” Lin Feng cried out in delight.

At his feet, a length of rusted iron chain was wedged deep into a rock crevice, the other end looped link by link down into the abyss, each segment as thick as a man’s arm.

Lin Feng tried to pull the chain to test its strength, but found it immovable.

“Let me try.” Helian Ruxue smiled. Among the three, she was undoubtedly the strongest, but even the Asura Maiden could not budge the chain—it was simply too solid.

“My brothers, Fallen Immortal Gorge is perilous beyond measure. We cannot know what lies below. It’s best that the first to go be me.” Helian Ruxue clapped her hands, feigning nonchalance as she stood at the edge.

Lin Feng hurried forward. “No! Since we’ve come this far, how could I let you take the risk first? Sooner or later, we’ll have to go down. I’ll go!”

Before Helian Ruxue could protest, Lin Feng seized the chain with both hands, leapt, and plunged into the sea of mist.

“If I don’t return in two hours, you must leave—don’t throw your lives away!” he shouted upward, his voice swallowed by the steaming fog.

Compared to Misty Veil Valley, visibility here was even worse; only the chain and the face of the cliff were visible. The cliff was polished smooth, not a blade of grass in sight. The further he descended, the heavier his mood became. After three days’ journey, would he return empty-handed?

He didn’t know how far he’d climbed when the ethereal sound of a zither drifted to his ears—at first low and plaintive, as if weeping. Interwoven with the music was the sound of a hidden spring, growing ever more otherworldly and sorrowful, tugging at his heart with a thousand sorrows. Unwittingly, Lin Feng found himself drawn in.

Suddenly, the music shifted—murderous intent surged, as if an army clashed on the battlefield. The notes were at times thunderous and stirring, at others clear and piercing, each one seizing his nerves.

The mist around him grew oppressive, like the choking dust of war. In a daze, Lin Feng’s eyes reddened, and grotesque faces appeared before him…

“Beat him to death!” The stern-faced Hall Master bellowed, and a burly man swung an iron whip across Lin Feng’s back, tearing skin and flesh…

“You useless wretch, can’t even break my sword formation! Who do you think you are to challenge me?” Zhu Fang in white laughed wickedly, his face twisted…

“Killing you is easier than crushing an ant—what a waste of my time!” Zhou Kuigang’s manic laughter echoed from above as his golden mace pierced Lin Feng’s heart.

“Ahhh!” Lin Feng howled, his hands trembling on the chain, one misstep from falling to his death.

At that critical moment, the Manjusaka above his dantian suddenly blazed with light. A frigid current shot up his meridians into his mind, as if ice water had been poured over burning iron. He shuddered violently, his vision clearing, and his eyes regained their light.

“That was close—too close!” he gasped, peering into the endless abyss below, terror flooding him. Time meant survival; if the other two above suffered such illusions, they would surely perish. With that, Lin Feng steeled himself and pressed downward.

Soon, the white mist abruptly vanished, revealing a verdant, radiant world. Steep, ring-shaped cliffs rose all around; a waterfall cascaded from one side, its torrent feeding a clear pool at the bottom. Bees and butterflies flitted about, birds chirped—a scene brimming with life.

A barrier! Lin Feng’s heart stirred. The layout of Fallen Immortal Gorge was much like Misty Veil Valley, hinting at some hidden secret. Could someone live here?

As he pondered, hearty laughter rang out across the land.

“Haha! Two hundred years, and at last someone has entered Fallen Immortal Gorge. Not bad, not bad!”

Lin Feng started, looking around, but saw no one.

“No need to search. Come down at your leisure,” came the cheerful, heartfelt voice, easing Lin Feng’s unease.

He slid down the chain, reaching the valley floor in the time it took half a stick of incense to burn.

Before he could look around, his vision blurred—a black-robed man appeared before him, turning slowly.

The man’s brow bore a wedge-shaped sword mark. His hair, white as snow, draped over his shoulders. Though his attire was plain, his face carried an air of proud solitude. He regarded Lin Feng in silence.

“G-greetings, senior…” Lin Feng felt as though he were standing before a mountain, its summit lost in the clouds.

“Haha! Excellent! Never thought I, Ye Kun, would see a living soul again in my lifetime!” The black-robed man’s booming laughter seemed to tear Lin Feng’s mind apart, draining the color from his face.

“What is your name? And how did you break through the zither’s heart-demon barrier?” Ye Kun stopped laughing, waving Lin Feng to follow.

Only Uncle Liang and Cai Yi knew the secret of the Manjusaka. Lin Feng would never reveal it to others.

“I am Lin Feng, an outer disciple of the Hundred Flowers Sect. I entered the gorge by mistake and disturbed your seclusion. Please forgive me, senior.” The lies came easily, and Lin Feng marveled at his own nerve.

Ye Kun just chuckled and asked nothing more. They walked to the clear pool before Ye Kun spoke again. “In this world, few can overcome their inner demons by will alone. I, Ye Kun, have spent two centuries cultivating and still cannot penetrate this karmic barrier. Yet you, a mere youth, have done so. One day, you will surely break through the void—your prospects are limitless…”

“But enough of that. Since fate has brought you here, will you do a favor for me?”

“Senior, please command me,” Lin Feng replied respectfully.

“Tell me, do you know who sits on the throne of Autumn Pool Kingdom today?” Ye Kun asked.

“I do not, senior.” Practitioners cared little for worldly affairs, and the Qiyun Mountains lay far in the remote southwest of the Divine Continent, ten thousand miles from Autumn Pool.

Ye Kun looked momentarily surprised, then smiled wryly. What weighed on him like a mountain was less than a medicinal herb or a pill to others. Why would they care?

“Take this imperial seal to Wanzhou City. If the people live in peace and the nation prospers, present it to the emperor. If he is a tyrant, do with it as you see fit—even set the court in order for me.” Ye Kun opened his hand, revealing a golden seal in the shape of a purple dragon, glowing with power.

“Senior, you… you are…” Lin Feng could guess the man’s identity from his words.

“Yes! I am the founding First Emperor of Autumn Pool!” Ye Kun stood tall, his kingly bearing magnificent, his white hair adding to his air of ancient sorrow.

Lin Feng was shaken to his core, his legs almost buckling.

“Years ago, I established an empire. In pursuit of immortality, I journeyed to Qiyun Mountain, but Jun Wuji turned me away. Yet the heavens favored me—I became a disciple of Master Chasing Sword. After a century, my skills grew, and I challenged Jun Wuji again and again, but always failed. Unwilling to accept defeat, I secluded myself here, erected the zither barrier, and swore not to leave until I mastered my heart’s demons!” Ye Kun’s eyes flashed with light, his emotions intense.

Such a simple phrase—“several challenges”—made Lin Feng’s heart race. Who was Jun Wuji? He was the current leader of the Hundred Flowers Sect, soon to ascend as an immortal—a powerhouse unmatched in all the Divine Continent.

Yet Ye Kun dared challenge him! His strength and courage were awe-inspiring.

Both men fell silent in thought. At last, Ye Kun spoke: “Since you undertake this task for me, you deserve a reward. I, Ye Kun, have devoted my life to the sword. Would you like to learn a thing or two?”

Lin Feng’s eyes shone with excitement, but he was uncertain. “Senior, I practice the Zhengyang Spear Technique and have never studied the sword…”

Ye Kun nodded, producing a simple booklet. “Here is a sword manual. If you wish, study it; if not, let it be. But you must not pass it to others.”

“Yes!” Lin Feng glanced at the items, then tucked them away.

“All paths of cultivation meet in the end. The spear and the sword share many principles. My ‘Phantom Cloud Sword Manual’ is inspired by the shifting mists of this gorge. It may not be the greatest under heaven, but with it, you will never be defeated in battle.” Ye Kun gazed into the pool. “If you ever leave this gorge and meet Jun Wuji’s disciples, defeat them with my sword art and I will be avenged.”

“I will do my utmost,” Lin Feng replied solemnly, bowing slightly.

“Well said. There is no need for formality between us. If you have nothing more, go now. Your two friends above must be growing impatient.” Ye Kun smiled.

Lin Feng was suddenly reminded—why not ask this immortal master to heal his dantian? But Uncle Liang had warned him never to reveal the Manjusaka. If Ye Kun found out, would it mean disaster? Besides, Uncle Liang’s abilities must be close to Ye Kun’s, and he could not repair Lin Feng’s dantian. Why should Ye Kun be able to? Besides, Helian Ruxue and Du Songsong were still waiting above. If he didn’t return within two hours, they would surely come down. If they faced their inner demons, they would be doomed!

Caught between two difficult choices, Lin Feng hesitated, considering many things in just a few moments.

At last, he steeled his resolve. “I will leave the gorge and fulfill your trust, delivering the seal as you wish.”

“Good! I’ll help you out.” As Ye Kun spoke, his aura changed. Lin Feng glanced at him and instantly felt his life and death were in this man’s hands—a chill swept from head to toe.

Boom! Darkness engulfed his vision, vertigo closing in as though his organs might burst from his throat.

“Lin!”
“Lin Feng!”
In the distance, his two companions waved to him. Lin Feng relaxed and made his way along the cliff.

“Boss, what took you so long? We thought you’d been eaten by a monster.” Du Songsong grinned.

Wu Zhuai wagged its tail and leapt into Lin Feng’s arms.

“Senior Sister, Songzi, let’s go. Don’t disturb the senior’s seclusion,” Lin Feng said.

“Senior?” Du Songsong looked around in confusion. “Where?”

Helian Ruxue smirked and gestured toward the deep gorge. Du Songsong suddenly understood.

On the way back to Heaven’s Gate Peak, Lin Feng recounted Ye Kun’s commission. The other two listened, spellbound.

“I think Senior Ye Kun must be at the Nascent Soul stage. Two hundred years ago, to challenge our sect master—he must be close to ascending,” Helian Ruxue mused.

“Ascending? Ascending where?” Du Songsong asked, puzzled.

Helian Ruxue pointed upward, smiling.

“The sky? But that can’t be, Senior Sister. I’ve seen our inner sect experts flying on swords many times. They can go beyond the ninth heaven…”

Lin Feng shook his head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Ascension isn’t just flight. Forget it, you’d best just focus on your blade.”

Du Songsong looked resigned.

“Junior brother, when do you plan to go to Wanzhou City?” Helian Ruxue asked.

Lin Feng thought for a moment. “In a while, after the Xuan Cang Pavilion’s gathering is over.”

Helian Ruxue nodded. “When the Pavilion opens, what treasures do you want to exchange for?”

“Treasure? I haven’t saved enough contribution points…” Du Songsong mumbled, despondent.

“Songzi, won’t those wolf claws be enough? All the points are yours,” Lin Feng teased.

“Uh…” Du Songsong had no answer.

Lin Feng chuckled. “This time, I must get a Feng Shui Essence Pill. What about you, Senior Sister?”

“I’d like to exchange for a sword manual, if there’s a suitable one,” Helian Ruxue replied.

“A sword manual…” Lin Feng echoed. He had a top-tier sword manual in his possession, but Ye Kun had forbidden him to pass it on. This left him in a dilemma.

“What is it, Junior Brother?” Helian Ruxue noticed his odd expression.

“Nothing, Senior Sister. With your skill, you’ll surely find what you want.” Lin Feng dodged the question.

“I hope so…” Helian Ruxue’s brows drew together, as if troubled by some secret worry.